Burns
by AnonymousDH
Summary: "Harvey," she mumbles, and he now let's his head rest against the refrigerator, his eyes closed as he realizes his ears, his mind are playing tricks on him. Now even hearing his name roll of her tongue, just like all those other times. The way she said it at the firm. "Harvey," he hears again, more begging just like that one time she asked him to forget about. [DARVEY]


**_Just a quick one shot, of the night Harvey quit the firm. Of how a heated conversation or lack of that can lead to even more heat, burns and maybe just everything that is really needed. This one is for Sofia! I hope you all enjoy it and maybe leave a review? x_**

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 **Burns**

He slams the door of his oven, his head hanging low as his fingers hold on to the edge of the counter. He's mad, mad at the situation. But mostly mad at himself, for not being able to tell her. To avoid her once more, running away one last time. Because he isn't sure if he'll see her again after this.

His fingers move over the counter to the tumbler with the liquid amber in it. He barely holds onto it, before he pours it down in one movement. The alcohol burning his throat, but it just isn't the same. Not anymore. He swallows as his mind wanders off to her once more, the way she looked. Her reddened eyes, the way her shoulders were shaking. And maybe worst of all, the disbelief on her face as he walked away. He didn't technically see that look, but he knows it was there. Probably pared with sadness and anger, he just doesn't know in which proportion.

He turns himself around as he lets himself lean against his refrigerator, softly banging his head against it as he goes over all the mistakes he's made in these past hours, weeks. But when it comes to her, he should say years. He's been making mistakes with her for years; one of the biggest ones been made over a decade ago.

He's so lost in his thoughts about her that he doesn't hear his front door opening and falling shut again. The sound of her heels against the wooden floor of his apartment sounding like a memory he'll never forget. Even if she hasn't been there that often; not often enough is all he can conclude. The way her swollen eyes are staring at him, her gaze burns his skin, her bottom lip still trembling. Exactly the way he last saw her as he thinks about that moment only an hour ago.

"Harvey," she mumbles, and he now let's his head rest against the refrigerator, his eyes closed as he realizes his ears, his mind are playing tricks on him. Now even hearing his name roll of her tongue, just like all those other times. The way she said it at the firm. "Harvey," he hears again, more begging just like that one time she asked him to forget about. Just like he imagined and hoped he'd hear her voice, just like it's been haunting him for nights now.

"Harvey," he hears one final time, louder this time. Fiercer, with passion even maybe and he swallows, his eyes still closed as he now feels the warmth of her hand on his cheek. But it isn't a memory, it isn't a dream, and it isn't soft. Anything but.

His eyes pop open as the right side of his face slams against the refrigerator, his left cheek burning. Not because of her slap, but her touch. The way her skin had touched his.

He mumbles a soft ouch as he tries to steady himself, yell at her why the hell she did that, but all he sees are those slightly swollen, red eyes staring at him. Piercing through his heart and all words die on the tip of his tongue. He just swallows as he looks at her, seeing her hand move to his face once more in the corner of his eye, but he's quicker this time. His fingers falling around her wrist, the way her name leaves his lips covering the sound of her soft sobs.

But she doesn't stop, she doesn't give in. She fights, she fights once more, for all he never really fought for. Her left fist slams to his chest, her eyes still piercing his soul, undoubtedly sending a million accusations his way, but only one really leaves her lips.

"You left!" she exclaims, "you left."

"Donna," he mumbles his other hand trying to reach for the one that's still slamming against his chest. "You left! You quit!" she exclaims again, the tears now running down her cheeks.

He hates seeing her like this, and every single fibre in his being screams he should comfort her, hold her. But she's closer she's ever been, her hands on his chest and his fingers on her wrist, and he knows exactly why they didn't touch anymore. His heart is beating in his chest, his breath becoming heavier as he's both fighting an internal battle and the fierce redhead in front of him.

He just looks at her, unable to answer. To find the words he so desperately needs to say, and somehow she does it for him. "You didn't tell me," she sobs, "why ... Why couldn't you tell me?"

"Donna," he begs, he's tired of fighting. Tired of giving up. Tired of being asked questions he can't answer. Questions he doesn't dare to answer, because she always had that rule. "Donna, please," he adds and her words fail to gain volume this time, her lips being left slightly agape. As she stares at him, seeing that look in his eyes again, the one she saw all those months ago. That look that set all this in motion.

It's not him, and it isn't her either that broke the silence around them. Maybe it was just them, simultaneously once again as no words were spoken, but motions were exchanged. The way he leaned towards her at the same time she tilted her head. How the warmth of his breath made her part her lips. The burning effect of the alcohol he had drank now being replaced by the effect she had on him, her warm lips against his, salty from her tears, but warm and inviting non the less.

Things are a blur as his fingers move from her wrist to her waist, her fingers fidgeting with the buttons of his dress shirt, before her hands slip underneath the fabric. He shivers under her touch, his lips moving to her neck, as his name leaves her lips once more. This time exactly as he remembered and imagined it to be. He lets out a small laugh, as her words make something happen inside him he can't really place or define, but he does know it feels right.

His hands move down her curves, over her butt before lifting her up at her thighs, making her cross her legs behind him. He turns both of them around in one swift movement, his hands disappearing under her dress as he places her on top of the kitchen counter. Her hands are playing with his hair, and she makes him look at her again. It isn't long before their lips are savouring each other again, her hands pushing back his shirt, her fingers trailing over his toned torso as he tries to open the zipper of her dress.

"Fuck. Donna," he mumbles on her lips as he fails again and she lets out a small laugh, bringing her own hands to her back, before she pulls down her own dress, the fabric now resting around her hips on the counter.

He takes her in, the way her auburn locks are hanging loose around her frame, the way her lipstick is slightly smudged on her face, how her hands are trying to reach for him, but mostly the way she's just sitting there in a black lace bra. He feels her heels press in his butt as she tries to bring him closer, her actions making him lick and bite his own lips before he kisses her again. His hands moving over her waist, before his fingers linger under her breasts.

He feels her fingers scrape his skin just above his suit pants, before he hears the sound of his belt being unbuckled. And any hesitation he might have had went away with that, as his right hand slips under her bra, immediately feeling her nipple harden against the palm of his hand, making her moan his name once more.

His lips attack her neck, leaving a trail of alternating kisses and soft bites as his hand massages her breasts, his left hand moving over her back to remove the piece of clothing all together.

Her nails are dug in his skin as she arched her back at his touch, making both their torsos touch. Her lips now on his jaw, her tongue forming the path to his earlobe until she softly sucks on it, whispering his name once more to distract him. Her fingers now stroking over his boxers feeling his arousal, in the same teasing way his fingers are buried between her legs. His thumb pressing against the lace of her thong against her clit, slowly making circular movements in the same rhythm his lips kiss her breasts.

With every teasing move from him her hand holds onto him longer, almost tickling his skin every time she lets go. "Harv, please," she whispers in his ears, two of his fingers automatically hooking underneath the fabric and inside her. She moans an 'ooh god' making him laugh against her skin. "It's Harvey actually," he teases before he kisses her again.

"Shut up," she orders on his lips as her hand trails down his arm, making sure he continues with what he's doing. With one hand on her hips her pulls her closer and she can now feel him pressing against her. He bends her backwards a bit, to give himself a better access, slowly pulling back his fingers.

"Harv," she questions his movement as she steadies herself by placing her hands on the counter behind her. He just kisses her again, before he pushes her dress up even further, his head lowering over her body before he holds her panties between his teeth and pulls it down. His tongue now going over the path his fingers had traced before. Making some inaudible sounds leave her lips, continued with an 'I hate you' as his mouth prematurely reaches hers again.

"No, you don't," he whispers, something he knows to be true as she shuts him up with a needy kiss, her hands pushing down his pants. "No, I don't," she gives in, her fingers fidgeting with the elastic band of his boxers again, and this time it's her name filling the area around them as an unanswered pleading.

"Patience," is all she's giving him, but the accompanied sparkle in her eye and the way her lips curl up in a smirk, tells him everything will be fine. For once everything will be just right, and she slowly pushes him back. Creating a bit more distance between them, as she manages the pull down his boxers with her toes. An action that gets him off guard, but he should have known by now that she's always the one that can surprise him. The one that always seizes to amaze him, with every single thing she does.

This also includes her following movement, as she pushes herself from the counter, her feet landing on the floor in between them. Her dress now falls all the way down, and his erection grows even more, as she's standing naked in front of him. The effect that had on him, didn't go unnoticed and she smiles stepping closer to him. Her warm hand around him, her lips nearly on his, whispering all the things she's about to do to him, as she manages to turn him around. Pushing him back with one swift movement of her hand, her body still presses against his as his butt hits the hot oven.

A loud scream of pain leaves his lip as he jumps forward, making both of them fall down on the floor. Him landing on top of her. "Auw," he mumbles again as his hand reaches for his own butt, his movement making her question what happened. But before she can ask, her gaze redirects to the object they'd just been standing in front of. The lights giving away of the piece of meat that was inside it, the smell of beef that had been spreading through the kitchen now finally reaching her nose and she realizes she must have been intoxicated by his scent to not notice it.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers as her fingers reach for his bum to look at the damage she's done. But her touch might just be even more painful, as he mumbles a soft 'fuck'. The burn makes him want to lay down, but he can't the previous problem apparently not being affected by the new one as he stares at himself. "Fuck," he mumbles louder again, "can't sit nor lie down," he thinks out loud, his words making Donna grin, but she tries to hide it as she grabs a towel and soaks it with lukewarm water.

She holds the towel in front of her as stops in front of him again. "I'm sorry," she whispers again, all the anger she had inside her before now completely gone. The way he looks at her whispering 'it's okay' removing any final doubt.

"So," she whispers, as she eyes him, "which uhm problem would you like me to take care of first?" she asks teasingly as she steps closer, bringing the wet towel to his butt.  
"This one?" she whispers in his ear as she covers the burn, "or this one?" she adds, her left hand trailing down his torso again.

He lets out a groan, before his smirk returns on his lips. He brings his index finger under her chin and makes her look him in the eye. "I know you're excellent at multi-tasking," he flirts.

"I am," she whispers, her hand sneaking down even further, her lips brushing against his again.

"I love you," he adds then and she gave him the only answer he really needed. Her lips on his as she mumbled those same three words. The only thing he really needed to hear after him doing that one thing said he'd never do. Leave without her, but he now knows everything will be all right. After all, after twelve years, things will finally just be right.

\- the end


End file.
